Best I've Ever Had
by Morrison.Melina.619
Summary: Sex between friends complicates everything. But Melina she has no idea how much more John is going to complicate things.


"Tell us."

"No."

"Tell us."

"No."

"Tell us."

"No."

"Tell us!"

"Okay!"

"Really?"

"No."

Sometimes, I just like messing with Mickie .

"C'mon, Mel. You _have_ to tell us who it is," she insists.

I look at her and roll my eyes. "No, I really don't."

"You're such a killjoy. You never talk about guys or sex, and then you say something like this and won't tell us who it was with? That's just bitchy," Eve tells me. "You're being a total prude."

"Why am I friends with you? You just called me a killjoy, bitch and prude in the span of fifteen seconds." With friends like these, who needs self esteem?

"Tell us."

"Oh my god, guys, no!" I say, exasperated. "I can't believe I was dumb enough to even mention it."

"Well, you were dumb enough," Eve says. God, she's just so wonderful. "So just give us a name, and we'll stop bugging you."

"I'm not going to tell you," I repeat.

"Tell who what?" Cena asks, joining us on the couch. There's a prolonged moment of unease when he looks like he's heading for the free seat next to Eve as if by instinct, then realizes that they're no longer dating and sits down next to Mickie instead.

"Nothing," I reply quickly. "It's nothing."

"What's nothing?" Mike pipes in as he sits down next to Mickie . Behind him I see John, entering the coffee shop and grabing his drink, before heading over to our table.

Shit.

Crap.

Shit crap.

I need to change the subject. Now. I need to think of something riveting and juicy that'll get their attention and make them forget all about my mystery man.

"Did you know that mama birds vomit up their food because baby birds can't handle eating something that's not already been digested?"

That's not it.

Cena makes a face at me, but it's John, piping up from behind me, who says what everyone is thinking. "What the fuck are you talking about, Melina?" He sits down next to his sister with a bright pink coffee cup—apparently, the coffee shop hasn't gone back to their regular ones, even though Valentines' Day was yesterday—as he says hi to the others.

"She's deflecting," Eve tells him, arching an eyebrow in challenge to me. I swear to God, if I didn't _know_ she didn't know, I'd think she knew. And of all people that shouldn't know, it's Eve because I don't think she'd be pleased to know that this conversation is actually about her brother.

"Deflecting from what?" John asks.

Oh God.

I see it happening in slow motion, the words leaving Mickie 's mouth like a car skidding and screeching on the brakes, trying not to hit anything.

"Melina told us she had the best sex of her life two days ago but won't tell us who it was with."

I wish a car would hit me right now.

"Actually, it's 'whom'," Mike corrects.

"Shut up, Mike," Cena says.

John turns to me, his green eyes bright and blazing, and it reminds me of the look he had as I took my shirt off that night. My stomach twists, and the feeling is not as unpleasant as it sounds.

And then he smirks and looks more like what he actually is: the smuggest bastard on the planet. "Really? _Really_? The best sex of her life, huh?"

"Yeah. She said they did it three times," Eve informs him. I want to smack her. Since she's so readily providing the bitch, it's the least I can do to donate the slap.

"In one night?" Cena asks, impressed. "Dude's got game."

John looks like the cat that ate the canary. Too bad that canary was, well… me.

"Dude's got multiple game," Mike amends.

Mickie titters. "That's not that only thing that was multiple—"

"Alright, alright, shut up already," I mutter.

"John, do you know who the guy is?" Eve asks, turning to him. "She tells you everything."

He's so slick an oil spill would slide off him. "No. She told me she slept with someone but she didn't tell me who he was." He keeps his eyes on me while he says this and for a moment, it feels like he is on my side—which he should be, since it's also his side.

"Damn. Come on, Mel, spill."

"You know, she failed to mention that it was the best she ever had," John interrupts, drawling his words out, making sure he has everyone's attention. "But she _did_ tell me that they did it four times, not three."

"Four? God damn, Mel!" Mickie says.

"You mean, Jeze-Mel," Mike jokes lamely and snorts.

"Shut up, Mike." This time it is Em and Eve in unison and they smile at each other for a moment before remembering that their break up wasn't amicable and they are supposed to hate each other now. They quickly plaster their faces with unconvincing scowls.

"The fourth time was in the morning," I protest.

"Yeah, but you came twice," John argues. His eyes widen as he quickly catches himself and says, "At least, that's what you _told_ me."

"You're such a fucker," I tell him, narrowing my eyes.

He grins, wide and proud. "I am. I really, really am." He pauses before gleefully adding, "You also told me he had a huge penis."

"What? No, I didn't!"

"Okay, no you didn't, but he must, right?"

I glare at John, and Cena gives him a strange look. "Dude, why do you care how big his penis was?"

John's head darts in Cena's direction and he tries to shrug it off. "I don't care… I just think Melina should give this guy the credit he deserves."

"Four times? Forget credit, she should give him a key to her apartment so he can come in anytime he wants," Mickie corrects.

Eve snorts. "He won't be the only one coming."

I love how my friends talk about my sex life like I'm not sitting right here. Not to mention in public and rather loudly. "Okay, this episode of sex and the shitty is over, alright guys? New topic."

I think Eve can sense that I'm about to lose it. She's softened from trying to bulldoze the answer out of me to just slapping me around a bit. "You know we'd shut up about it if you just told us who he was."

No, you really wouldn't.

As if realizing that if I were to tell them, he'd get as much shit as I am now, John pops in and says, "Whatever, guys. She'll tell us when she wants to tell us."

I shoot him a grateful smile, and he holds my eyes for a bit longer than he needs to, a bit longer than he normally does. My stomach flips again.

He has to look away when Eve asks him about what time they're going to drive upstate to the anniversary party their parents are hosting this weekend. It's only when our eye contact breaks that it hits me.

This is normally the type of thing you realize the morning after you sleep with someone you wouldn't normally sleep with, when all the details of his existence, all the reasons you shouldn't have done what you just did hit you like a bad, belated hangover.

But the morning after wasn't weird at all. When I woke up for the first time, it was to his lips and hands. When I woke up for the second time, he was fully clothed and had made me coffee. Even though it was his apartment, he'd left me there to go to work with a kiss on my nose, which had made me feel as good as anything we'd done the previous night, and a 'see you later'.

And later is now.

So I guess it makes a little sense that this is when the full realization of what happened really crashes down on me.

I slept with John.

John.

The brother of one of my best friends.

One of _my_ best friends.

I can feel panic welling up in me, but it doesn't feel like regret. It's less _what I have done_ and more _what am I going to do now_, maybe mixed in with a minuscule bit of _I wonder if I'll ever get to do it again_. It feels like my stomach and my guts are trying to tango with each other. Whenever I'm like this, I always fall back on John to calm me down, only I can't do that now because John is what is riling me up.

Still, instinct takes over and I look up at him. He frowns and tilts his chin up slightly, silently asking me what's up. I can do nothing but frown back and shake my head. He gives me a small smile and surprisingly, it's enough to cheer me up.

"You know…" Cena begins, during a lull in the conversation. "Maybe Melina won't tell us who it is because she doesn't know who it is."

I glare at him and slam my fist into an arm.

"Ow!" Mike yelps.

Unfortunately, Cena is sitting too far away from me.

"Sorry, Mike. You were the closest."

He gives me a dirty look but says nothing.

"Can we all stop talking about my sex life now?" I ask hotly.

"Fine," Eve says. "We just thought you'd want us to appreciate that you actually have one, for once."

I make a face. "Stop acting like I'm a nun."

Cena snorts. "I don't think anyone ever thought you were a nun. Just an antisocial, emotionless uber-bitch."

"That we know and love," adds Mickie , as if that'll make me feel better.

Thankfully, the topic changes, but their comments stick with me. As we're all getting ready to go our separate ways a little later, I tug on the tail of John's plaid shirt, letting the others walk out before us.

"Am I an antisocial, emotionless uber-bitch?" I ask.

He laughs it off. "Not to me."

There. That's all I needed to hear.

_This night is weird, different. It's Valentine's Day Eve, whatever the fuck that is, and we're at some new bar in a part of a city we rarely go to. It was supposed to be all of us—but Eve and Em backed out for obvious reasons, then Mickie and Mike for less obvious ones and now, it's just us._

_You and me._

_And we're _different_._

_Maybe I'm imagining it but you're teasing me, instead of taunting, flirting instead of fighting. Or maybe I'm starting it and you're doing it back. It's fucking with my head and part of me thinks: fuck it, get drunk and see what happens. The other part of me thinks: why not _just _see what happens. Because this may not be something I want to blame on the alcohol or explain away by poor judgment.  
_  
_What happens is I want to kiss you. It starts out as just an idea, just a flash and it's gone, then turns into an urge, and now it's like a new language inside my head, and I can't understand any other thought except that I need to touch you. Now._


End file.
